


Enter, Jerome

by StrawberrieMars



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M, POV Second Person, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-06-08 23:32:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6879988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberrieMars/pseuds/StrawberrieMars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A very short fic about meeting Jerome at the circus one night. May or may not be added on to.</p><p>[Edit :: guess who's back >;3c slow updates, slow burn, but I promise to make it worth your while]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You hated the circus. The noisy crowds, the stink of faire food, the rigged carnival games - none of it was terribly appealing. Except for maybe the “edgier” performers. Fire-eating didn’t seem like a bad profession should your plans for the future fall through. Of course, your future plans were a bit of a fairytale anyways, considering that your parents thought going to college away from Gotham was a terrible idea, and were doing their very best to try and control your life.

Hence your hatred of the circus had increased twofold when you were pressured to go on a date with someone you loathed with every fiber of your being; Louis Dobson. Not only about as upper-class as one could get in Gotham without being a Wayne, but also having the unfortunate gift of a desert dry personality. You’d give him this much, however - he had an extensive amount of knowledge on, and experience with, boating. So extensive, in fact, that it was the only thing he talked about. You’d rather volunteer to be a dartboard than listen to another one of Dobson’s goddamn boating stories.

With cheery calliope music in one ear and Dobson’s seasickness-inducing stories in the other, the night was going to shit. Not that it had anywhere positive to go to begin with, but you get the idea.

Enter, Jerome.

After watching a surprisingly decent “freakshow” that consisted of a snake charmer, a sword swallower, a and a pair of contortionist twins, Dobson had forgotten his wallet in the tent and left you so he could go find it. So far asking if you could wait for him for a moment was the only gentlemanly thing he’d done, since it finally gave your steadily melting brain a reprieve from his rambling. As your faux smile fell and you massaged your aching cheeks, someone sidled up to your right in your peripherals. A redhead, given what you could tell from the brief glance you shot his way. No one you could easily place as a schoolmate, so he either went to one of the schools on the other side of the city, or worked at the circus. All the same you couldn’t keep pretending not to notice him, especially not after he had the audacity to clear his throat to get your attention. With a deep breath through your nose you turned to face him, already lining up the bullets in your head to shoot down whatever one-liner he had for you.

The grin on his face that was almost unsettling at first, like it was too big to fit there. However it made his eyes gleam with a trace of mischief rather than insincerity or creepiness, so he at least had that going for him. You found yourself hoping he wasn’t just a... _uniquely_ cute face. With an eyebrow raised and your lips set in a thin line, you spoke first. “Can I help you?”

He shrugged, his grin turning lopsided. “Maybe later, you can. Right now, I think if anyone needs a little help, it’s...” he flourished one hand and pointed, “...you.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, smirking at him. “Really, now? And just what gives you that idea?”

“Well,” he slowly began to pace around you. “You sort of caught my eye a bit earlier in the night, and - not to be too _forward_ or anything - I’ve noticed that your ‘friend’ doesn’t seem too concerned about making sure you’re having a good time.” He stopped pacing, now standing to your left and throwing an arm around your shoulder. “So, I’m thinking to myself, ‘That’s a damn shame! Such a pretty girl being bored to _death_ by some little prick with a silver spoon up his ass. She looks like she could use some... _absconding_ with.’”

Your eye twitched and you ducked out from under his arm. “Right, and following me and coming to that conclusion is _totally_ not sketchy. Like, at all.”

He put a hand to his chest, mouth agape in mock offense. “Me? _Sketchy_? Please, let me fix that.” He held his hand out to you, the eerie - and yet steadily growing more charming - grin on his face again. “Jerome.”

Raising your eyebrow again, you couldn’t help but smile at the light theatrics, and shook his hand. “[---].”

“See? Not so sketchy anymore, right?” Jerome slid his hand down to your wrist. “So, whaddya say, [---]? I’ll help you ditch the fancy pants, and show you some _real_ fun.”

“Tch, right.” You pulled your hand away. “And if I’m caught ditching with you?”

He laughed, a sound that made your heart skip a beat and yet sent a small chill down your back. “By who? Your ‘date’? What’s he gonna do, tell his father about it?”

You pursed your lips to try and keep yourself from laughing, but there was no hiding that you found it funny. Especially not from Jerome, who threw his arms out. “See what I mean?! There’s nothing to worry your pretty little head over.”

In the end your smile broke through, and he took your hand in both of his and brought it to his chest, giving you a look that could only be described as comically adorable. “If it helps sway your decision any, I can get us into everything for free...”

You bit your lip, shifting your weight from one foot to another.  On the one hand, you’d still be at the circus. On the other hand, Jerome was _far_ more interesting than Louis Dobson.

In the end, the only _real_ downside to the choice you made was that you missed Dobson’s confused expression when he couldn’t find you where he had left you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if you find any mistakes. I'm sort of posting this in a fit of saltiness so... I'll fix it at a later date if I find anything particularly glaring ._.
> 
> I make no promises about continuing. I also make no promises about *not* continuing. I'm sort of in a weird place right now and this ended up being more of a way to vent since I can't really do so properly. Anyways. Hope you liked it. Comment, kudos, bookmark - whatever you please, Readers >;3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back

Your initial impression was right: Jerome was definitely more interesting than Dobson. Not in the ways you expected, however. Then again, you weren’t sure what you  _ had _ been expecting. Probably not the mood swings. They didn’t happen often, but you noticed certain things would instantly change his cheery -- if not borderline manic -- demeanor to one of cold, stone-faced rage. Most of the triggers related to his mother, ranging from hearing her shrill voice calling his name at the end of the night, to even the slightest mention of her; something you learned quickly when you told him you enjoyed the tent she had been performing in. You had made several notes over the course of the following two weeks to avoid the woman as well as any talk of her.

Mood swings aside, Jerome made going to the circus far more bearable than before. Of course there weren’t really many places you could go in Gotham -- besides a few clubs you weren’t terribly keen on sneaking into -- so a more tolerable experience at the circus was a must. For the most part whenever you came by to visit, the two of you would mostly engage in childish mischief. Sticking your nose up when a fancily-dressed Gothamite passed and talking about caviar and stocks in a mocking voice. Sneaking into performance tents and watching from under bleachers, all the while finding various pointy things to poke unsuspecting ankles with. The one thing he seemed to enjoy doing the most was showing you how to cheat at the carnival games.

Or maybe that was just you who enjoyed it most, considering the close proximity of him showing you how to aim the darts “ _ juuust _ right” made your heart pound a little.

* * *

 

“Alright, I gotta ask.” Jerome leaned a little closer to you on the bench. “What the  _ hell _ was a doll like you doing with that stuffy guy the night we met?”

You shrugged, picking through your popcorn for the piece that had the most chocolate. “It wasn’t my idea. My parents liked him, and they encouraged me to go. Especially after Dobson thought it’d be appropriate to put me on the spot by showing up at the door.”

“Oh really? What’d he do, bribe your folks beforehand?”

You shook your head, finding the perfect piece and popping it in your mouth. “Nah, he’s too dull for that.”

“I see...” Jerome propped his elbow up on the back of the bench, resting his cheek in his hand. “So, if I wanted to impress your parents enough for them to force you on a date with me, all I’d have to do is show up at your door?”

You snorted. “Well, you’d have to one-up Dobson if you did. So, if you came to the door in a nice shirt and tie, and then maybe brought some roses or something, that might do the trick.”

“Yeesh, sounds  _ boring _ .” He bared his teeth in that unnerving smile of his. “Tell you what, I’ll show up at the door, dressed  _ real _ nice for ya, and I’ll just hold you at gunpoint.”

Your eyes widened. “Um --”

And then he laughed, nudging you and shaking his head. “I’m yanking your chain, doll.”

You gave him a wry grin, shuffling through the popcorn again.  “Well, no offense, but  _ yikes, _ dude.”

“What? Too dark?” Jerome threw an arm around you, tugging you close and snapping up the piece you had in hand for himself. “I  _ guess _ I can wait until the second date to bring the gun.”

Now it was your turn to laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure my folks will appreciate that.”

“You think?”

“Oh,  _ sure _ . Nothing says ‘respectable young man’ to my parents than a nice suit and the threat of murder.”

Jerome laughed again, a sound that bordered on maniacal. “ _ Wow _ , who’s being dark now? I never said anything about murder! I was just thinking, if anything, a well-placed shot to your dad’s kneecap, and that was only if they needed any persuasion.” He leaned close, glancing around before whispering in your ear, “But if you’re onboard with  _ murder _ , I’m sure I could arrange something.”

You shoved him off and quickly stood. He quirked an eyebrow at you, the grin still on his face, at least until you started backing away. He rolled his eyes and stood. “Oh come  _ on, _ are you gonna act like that every time?”

You frowned and turned away. Nope. This was getting too creepy. Just as you started walking away, though, Jerome grabbed your arm and said, “Listen, I say shit like that all the time. Do you really think I’d ever do it, though?”

Against your better judgement, you slowly turned back around to face him. Though he had on a slight pouting face, you could still see the devilish glint in his eye. The expression worried you -- were you potentially involving yourself with a closet psychopath? Or did he really just have a very ( _ very _ ) dark sense of humor?

And if he  _ was _ serious? You’d probably be just as at fault for enabling him (whether intentionally or not) if he went through with his jokes. A tiny part of your mind then scared you for a moment when you suddenly thought,  _ would you really want to stop him _ ?

Pushing the thought away, you pulled your arm from his hold and sighed. Against your better judgement, you finally answered, “Honestly, I think you’d do it in a heartbeat.”

He stepped back, putting a hand over his chest. “Oh,  _ really _ ? You’d think me so cruel and heartless! [---], doll, I’m hurt.”

You rolled your eyes and punched his shoulder. “Shut up, I’m not done.

“I think if you were pushed, or hell, if the mood suited you, you’d probably off someone without a second thought. But...” you sighed again and shook your head. “...I like you. Whatever you do, just don’t land your ass in jail, and keep me out of it.”

Jerome’s eyes widened a little, and he cocked his head, before he was smiling that unnerving-yet-charming smile of his. “Tell you what, if I  _ do _ end up in jail,  _ ye of little faith _ ,” he stepped forward, wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling your body flush against his, “I promise not to be too heartbroken if you don’t come visit.”

You rolled your eyes again after he gave your nose a tap, but smiled all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well well well, hello all! With the most recent promo for the second half of season three out, I'm surprised more people aren't posting out of sheer excitement that our favorite little asshole's coming back.
> 
> I can't promise any sort of update schedule, just that wherever this goes, it's going to be a slow burn. The rating will probably jump up after a little while ;3


	3. Chapter 3

Ever since you admitted to liking him, Jerome could hardly keep his hands off you. Granted, he had been pretty handsy before, but now it seemed like he always had an arm around your waist or shoulders, or he was guiding you around by the small of your back. On the occasion that you chatted with some of the carnies, Jerome was right behind you, arms around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. If it had been anyone else, you’d probably think that it was just sweet gestures, or him being comfortable enough with you to publicly show affection. But it took one too many frowns in Jerome’s direction to realize the truth: Jerome was asserting that you were _his_.

It unnerved you at first. If it were anyone else, you would have spoken up sooner, demanding respect and calling them out on the absolute nerve they had to treat you like property. But it was like Jerome had come in under the radar and knocked that particular signal down. You did eventually confront him about it, but he had laughed and patted your cheek, saying, “It’s only for a little while. Once everyone gets the message that you’re with me, that no one here should so much as _dream_ of messin’ with ya, I can back off.” He then leaned close to your ear and added, “Unless you start to like it.”

You had bitten your tongue to keep from saying you were already liking it. _Jesus_ , you thought, _what the fuck’s come over me?_ Was it just a small price to pay for starting a relationship with someone so volatile?

Was it worth it?

* * *

 

There had been only one person left in the circus that Jerome hadn’t paraded you in front of, and that was his mother, Lila. Given the obvious strain in his relationship with her, however, you weren’t surprised. At this point though, it seemed ridiculous to you that you hadn’t at least introduced yourself to her yet. When you arrived at the circus a bit earlier than usual one day, you decided to wait for Jerome to finish... well, whatever it was he was doing for the day -- you couldn’t remember if he was manning the ticket booth or ushering this week -- in the trailer. And if that meant upsetting him by meeting his mother, too, well, he’d just have to deal with it.

Still, you hesitated before knocking on the door to the trailer.

“Be right there~!”

You raised an eyebrow. You hadn’t expected her to sound so chipper up-close, given you’d only ever heard Lila’s voice when she was shouting at Jerome from halfway across the fairground. _Maybe she’s not so bad,_ you thought as the door squeaked open.

“Why, Owen, it’s so nice to see--” Lila almost choked on her sentence, the sultry smile on her face quickly gone and her hand on her chest when she saw you at her doorstep. “Oh. Hello.”

You smiled as sweetly as you could, the smell of cheap wine wafting out from the trailer. “Hello, Ms. Valeska. I’m [---].” When she only tilted her head in response, your shoulders sank slightly. “I’m... friends with your son, Jerome?”

 _That_ sparked something in her, as her posture immediately went from surprised to standoffish as she leaned against the doorframe. “Ah, right. His new toy.”

You frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“Everyone talks here, sweetheart. My son’s been dragging you all around the circus, showing you off.” She rolled her eyes. “I suppose you’d like to come in and wait for him to finish up work, hm?”

Before you could answer she unlocked the screen door and gestured for you to come inside. You absently noted the empty snake cage next to the trailer before following, doing your best not to gag on the mix of cigarettes and wine.

Upon walking through the door you stood in front of a small kitchen area, where beer bottles and wine boxes were littered around the sink. To your right was a dinette, the leather cushions haphazardly patched up and the table covered in scuff marks. Further beyond that was a narrow door with a crescent moon shape carved into it, and then past that was curtained off area that you could only assume was Lila’s room. To your left was a small sitting area, consisting of a loveseat and a beanbag chair placed across from a small TV, an old enough model that it still had dials for the controls. Beyond that was a door, open just enough that you could see a futon took up most of that room’s space.

Cramped though it may have been, you were pretty sure that if some of the bottles and ashtrays had been cleaned up, the trailer would seem a little bit cozier.

“So,” Lila started, regaining your attention as she sat down in the dinette with a cigarette in hand. “Jerome’s taken a liking to you, huh?”

You nodded and slid onto the booth seat, sitting adjacent to her. “He got me out of a bad date.”

She snorted, an ugly sound that shook the table. “Really? Honey, if you were having a bad date all you had to do was bring them to me, I’m sure I would’ve found a use for them.”

When you didn’t respond she took a long drag. “It’s almost a shock. You takin’ an interest in my son, I mean. You’re too pretty for him.”

You frowned. “Well, thank you, but that’s really for me to decide.”

Lila froze for a moment, and then smirked.  “It’s his hair isn’t it? That’s what attracted me to his father, anyway.” She tapped her cigarette over an overflowing ashtray. “Whatever floats your boat then, sweetheart. I just think you could find better company with one of those Graysons -- they’re _acrobats_ , you know? Limber.”

You shrugged. “I haven’t gotten to know him that intimately yet. Maybe he’ll surprise me.”

She threw her head back and let out a barking laugh. “Funny! I always knew he’d end up with a clown, but not the kind who doesn’t work for Haly!”

You glared. “A clown?”

When she finally calmed down enough she waved her hand dismissively, standing and heading to the fridge. “I’m just _teasing_ you, sweetheart. You’ll need to grow a thicker skin if you expect to be with my son much longer.”

Something in her tone told you she absolutely was _not_ teasing you. It made your blood boil.

At least until you noticed the snake slithering onto the table and jumped up from it. Lila laughed again, picking up the reptile and draping them over her shoulders. “Afraid of snakes, dear? I’m afraid we might not get along if that’s the case.” She lifted the snake’s head, pointing them toward you. “This is Shiva.”

Up close, the snake was far more intimidating. Much larger than you had originally believed, the reptile wrapped around both of Lila’s arms and draped over her back some, with a little room to spare for their head and tail tip to move around.

“You know, I don’t get many visitors.” Lila smirked again and giggled, “Well, no one from outside the circus anyways. Shiva hasn’t met someone new in a long while. Would you like to hold her?”

As much as the creature made your stomach turn uncomfortably, you nodded. Shiva had to have been trained, so what harm could they really do? You held out a shaking arm, and squeaked as the snake slowly began sliding off of Lila and on to you. When Shiva looked at you directly, she actually might have seemed a little cute, slithering across your shoulders and down your other arm. You slowly moved so that your left arm was more relaxed than the right, keeping it slightly bent at your side while you held Shiva’s head high on your right.

“Well look at you,” Lila drawled, still smirking. “I think I know the real reason why Jerome’s been sticking to you -- you’re a natural snake charmer.”

You glanced at her, lowering your right arm a little and looking Shiva in the eyes again. “No, I’m just not as afraid as everyone thinks I should be.” _Of the snake_ or _Jerome_.

It was then that the door opened with a slam, making you jump slightly and jostle Shiva. The snake tensed, immediately trying to bring themselves as close to your arms as they could, tightening just a little _too_ much.

“Dumbass!” Lila snapped. “Can’t you see Shiva’s making friends?”

Jerome looked at you from his spot in the threshold, eyes wide and his foot out in midstep. Your cheeks quickly flushed as he looked you up and down, before they locked with his mother’s and narrowed. “Right. Friends. How come you don’t let _your_ friends come by and play with her like that? Afraid she’ll strangle them?”

Lila sneered. “I’m going to strangle _you_ , boy, if you’ve got anything else to say.”

Jerome mirrored her expression, but said nothing. Instead his eyes found yours once more. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.” You turned for a moment and held out your arms for Lila to pull Shiva from your shoulders. “Wasn’t sure where you were going to be today.”

His frown twisted further, but again he said nothing. Once Shiva was off of you though he quickly grabbed your wrist and started to pull you from the trailer, muttering under his breath something about “catching the whore from my mother”.

“Don’t go knocking this one up, boy!” Lila called after you. “It’s bad enough I take care of _one_ smart-mouthed brat!”

* * *

Jerome waited until you both had left the fairgrounds to finally say something. And when he did, he slammed you up against a tree before saying it.

“Just what the _fuck_ were you really doing there, huh?” He pinned you to the trunk by your shoulders, gripping them far tighter than Shiva had been.

“I already told you; I was waiting for you.” You glared at him and shoved him off. “So what that I happened to meet your mother in the process?”

“Tch, right, like you weren’t _dying_ to meet the bitch. What, you thought I flinched at her voice for shits and giggles?”

“For fuck’s sake -- if I had known just how shitty she was under all that makeup you really think I’d go there on purpose?”

“So you _did_ try to meet her!”

“Of course I fucking did!” you snapped, throwing your arms up. “Is it really so _wrong_ of me to want to meet the mother of someone I’m interested in? Hell, at least I didn’t threaten to show up at your door with a fucking _gun_!”

“You know, that actually would’ve made my life a hell of a lot easier if you had.” Jerome shoved you back against the tree. “Next time you plan on visiting, why don’t you run that by me?”

“Oh, fuck you!” You pushed back again, though this time you barely moved him. “I’m not going to visit again after that -- all she could do was talk shit about you and praise the Graysons for how ‘ _limber_ ’ they were. Gross.”

“God, I told you she was a bitch.”

“Yeah well, now I know.”

“Happy now?”

“No, because now you’re acting like a total prick!”

Jerome’s lip curled, but he stepped back from you. “Fine. Go home then.”

You groaned, putting a hand on your face. “Jesus, dude, grow up. I probably wouldn’t have felt so compelled to meet her if you would’ve just _talked_ to me about her, y’know? That’s sort of how a relationship works. Communication.”

“Yeah? Well listen to what I’m communicating then.” He stepped close to you, uncomfortably close. You could feel his breath on your cheeks as he seethed, “Relationships are made up of nothing but fuck buddies using each other as a means to an end. That’s the only useful thing that _whore_ back there has taught me, and you just had to go and meet her. The biggest person I can’t stand in my life has spoiled the only nice thing I’ve had in awhile. So go home. I’m tired of you.”

You froze. “What?”

“Oh, so now you’re stupid? Go. _Home_. Little girl.”

_THWACK!_

Jerome stumbled back a few feet, his hands over his nose. You shook out your fist, feeling flecks of blood fly from your knuckles. He brought his hands down and looked at them, blood steadily dribbling down from his nostrils. He looked back up at you, eyes wild as he wiped the blood onto his sleeve and smeared it on his face. “The _fuck_ was that for?”

“You think you can parade me around and shit like you fucking _owned_ me? And then say I’m _ruined_ after a meeting with your mom?” Your fists were trembling. “ _Fuck_ you, Jerome. _That’s_ what that was for.”

You spun on your heel and fled, furiously wiping tears from your eyes.

Jerome licked his upper lip, tasting the blood that had smeared on it. He wouldn’t be surprised that you didn’t come see him again after that night.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least we met Lila while she was sober.


End file.
